


This is...the Good Place? Really?

by CheyanneChika



Series: CheyanneChika's Sterek Week [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Good Place (TV) Fusion, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Derek Hale is Jason Mendoza, Everyone is Dead, F/M, Gen, Implied Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, It's 'The Good Place' so everyone except Michael is dead hence the major character death tag, It's all implied because of the whole soulmate angle, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, No One Reads These Tags | Tag Wranglers Read These Tags, Rewrite of season 1 in less than 2000 words, Scott and Allison were supposed to be Tahani and Chidi buuuuuuut...it didn't work out that well, Soulmates, Sterek Week, Sterek Week 2017, Stiles Stilinski is Eleanor Shellstrop, Werewolf Derek Hale, scene stealer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 10:28:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12505344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheyanneChika/pseuds/CheyanneChika
Summary: What is says on the tin.  Teen Wolf characters in the Good Place...with Michael...This should go well.





	This is...the Good Place? Really?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stilienski](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stilienski/gifts).



> I entirely blame Stilienski for this and my addiction to the show. I hope she loves it.

Stiles opened his eyes.  The first thing he saw were the words, “Welcome, everything is fine,” on the wall in front of him in bright green paint.  His mouth twitched.  Typically, if he was told something was fine, it probably really wasn’t.

A door opened and a mild-looking man in a suit poked his head out.  “Mr. Stilinski? Come on in.”

Stiles got up and crossed the room.

The man, he had white, fluffed hair and a bowtie, sat at the desk in the bright room and gestured at the seat opposite.

Stiles took it, trying not to show how nervous he was.

The man looked down at the folder in front of himself and paused.  “Do you have a nickname?” he asked, at last.

“Stiles,” Stiles said. 

“Right, Stiles.”  The man snapped the folder shut.  “You’re dead.”

“I’m what?” Stiles squeaked.

“Dead.  But don’t worry.  You’re in the _good place_ ,” the man emphasized.  “I’m Michael.  I created this neighborhood, filled with all the good people.  You have nothing to worry about.”

“You’re forking with me.”  Stiles paused.  “Forking…fork, what the heck?”

“Swearing isn’t polite, it is therefore banned.”

“Fork,” Stiles grumbled.  “Uh, wait, if I’m dead, why don’t remember dying?”

“For traumatic deaths, we typically erase your last memory.  I can, however, tell you.”

“Yeah,” Stiles snapped.

Michael reopened the folder.  “You and your friend were in the woods, looking for half of a body that that the police were also looking for.  It seems you were killed and brutally eviscerated by the creature that killed the man whose body you were looking for.”

“What about Scott?” Stiles asked, knowing already that Scott must be that friend.

“Oh, he’s here too.  You’ll have a friend in the afterlife.”

Stiles wasn’t sure whether to respond positively or negatively to this.  “Cool,” he said, finally.

 “Let’s take a walk,” Michael said, getting up.

They made their way across through this lovely, if suburban, neighborhood while Michael rambled about how “The Good Place” worked.  Stiles tried not to panic.

They reached the town meeting Stiles hadn’t known they were going to and he took an edge seat in the second row while Michael cheerfully leapt onto the stage.  He only spotted Scott too late to do anything but hiss at him.  Scott didn’t hear.  The guy next to Stiles shot him an annoyed look.  He was huge.  Huge and hot.  Like ridiculously hot.  Dark hair and green eyes, chiseled features…Stiles had to hastily look away.  He also missed the fact that the hot guys was staring right back at him, with eyes narrowed and nostrils flared.

He looked back to Scott who was, like Stiles, completely ignoring the video introduction to “The Good Place”.  He, however, was staring at an attractive brunette nearby him.  She was actually paying attention to the video.

Stiles winced.  Scott was lovestruck already.  He sighed and waited for the video to be over.  It ended with a cute meme of otters holding hands and Michael started speechifying again.

As it ended, Michael stepped down from the platform and called, “Stiles!”

Stiles paused and waited, regretting every decision that brought him to this point…and that included dying.  “Let me show you your house.”

Stiles frowned.  “But don’t you have other people to attend to?”

“Time is a relative construct here.  I’ve already shown everyone else.  You’re the last.”

“Huh, okay.”  That was very not okay, but whatever.  He looked in Scott’s direction but the other boy was already long gone.  Did he not know Stiles was there too?  Did it even occur to him to ask?  Stiles swallowed and was led down the road.

The house tour was…short.  It was a very small place…with clowns.  Stiles was very uncomfortable.

“And, I must say, you have lived quite the life, for someone as young as you.  Constant fundraising for the needy, working for relief campaigns for all the recent natural disasters in the US.  I realize that you are still underage, though, as you are dead, age no longer matters, but of course, I assume you would have continued your efforts overseas once you were old enough to travel easily outside US borders.”

Stiles blinked several times and then nodded and Michael went on.  “And you are welcome to relive any of your memories through our TV system.”  He pulled up a first person shot of someone scooping children out of a rickety boat and onto a helicopter.

Michael smiled brightly at Stiles, who smiled a complete rictus back.

There was a gentle knock that had Stiles whipping around.  The pretty brunette he’d seen Scott drooling over was standing there, looking very uncomfortable.  “Um hi.”

“Ah, Allison, come in, come in.”

The girl stepped further into the room, looking around tentatively.  “Stiles, this is your soulmate, Allison Argent.”

_Scott’s going to killllllll me!_

“Hiiiiiii.” Stiles stretched out the word.

“Hello,” Allison replied, shyly.

“Hello,” Stiles mimicked and internally—and probably externally as well—cringed.  “I’m Stiles.” _Words, make goddamned words, please!  I never ever shut up and now I can’t make words?_

“Well, I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” Michael said brightly, straightening his already straight bowtie.

The moment Michael was out of the door, Stiles zeroed in on Allison. “Um, Allison, you’re my soulmate, and you’ll trust me on this right?”

“Yes?” Stiles grimaced.  She already had her back up. 

Still, honesty was the best policy. “That’s not me,” he said, pointing at the screen where memories were still playing.  “I don’t think I’m supposed to be here.”

Allison’s eyes bulged.  “Wh-what?”

Before anything else could happen, the front door was thrown open again.  Stiles spent a second thinking that Michael had somehow heard him and was coming back to drag him to the Bad Place.

“Stiles!” It was Scott.

“Buddy!” Stiles yelled, sidestepping his soulmate to bro-hug his best friend.  Over Scott’s shoulder was hot, broody guy from the meeting.  He glowered silently while Stiles met his lovely green eyes.  Scott pulled back with a firm slap to the back and said, “Dude, what the heck is up with this place?  Isn’t it so cool?  I mean, there’s froyo everywhere and—“ he stopped dead as his eyes drifted to Allison.  He swallowed visibly. “Uh, uh, hi.  M-my name is Scott.”

_And it begins,_ Stiles thought, focusing on Scott.  “Bro, this is my soulmate, Allison.”

The brief flash of utter betrayal on Scott's face would have been easy to miss if it wasn’t Stiles watching him.  Stiles new every nuance of his best friend’s face and that was the look of a man who had fallen hard and fast and now couldn’t have what he wanted.  And he hadn’t even spoken a sentence without stuttering to the poor girl yet.

“Allison,” Stiles continued, as if he hadn’t noticed.  “This is Scott McCall, my best friend, brother-in-arms, fellow troublemaker and rabble rouser.”

“Are rabble rousers allowed in the Good Place?” Allison asked playfully and Stiles could have died right there and gone unnoticed.  She was just as hooked as Scott.

Maybe he and mystery eyebrow man could commiserate together.

“Who’s your new friend?” Stiles asked.

Scott blinked out of his puppy dog glaze of new found love and tore his gaze away from the girl and back to Stiles.  “Uh, wha?”

Stiles pointed at tall, dark and broody.

“Oh, that’s Derek,” Scott said, and it was like a physical force of gloom settled over him, “my _platonic_ soulmate.”

Oh, this was going to go so, so poorly.  Still, Stiles stuck out a hand.  “Hi, I’m Stiles, that lovely woman over there is Allison.  Nice to meet you.”

Derek took the hand and he stiffened, hand gripping hard enough to crush bone and Stiles bit back a whine.  Were things supposed to hurt in the Good Place?  Then he stopped caring because he thought Derek’s green eyes had just flashed an iridescent shade of blue.

And what?

It was gone in a split second and then Derek was pulling him into another room.  Stiles could have argued, but Scott and Allison likely wouldn’t notice them, as they had gone back to looking at each other.

With the door safely closed, Derek pinned Stiles against the wall and _sniffed_ him.  “What the fork—”

“Shut up,” the other, much larger, man growled.  _Growled!_   He resumed sniffing and finally grunted.  “Fork.”

“What?” Stiles asked, desperately wishing his heart wasn’t pounding furiously in his throat.  The guy was so close, he could probably feel it moving a mile a minute.

Derek looked around and his face showed hesitation for only the briefest moment.  Then his eyes flashed blue and held there for a few seconds.  “I can smell…mate potential.”  Stiles heard the words, but was a bit busy dealing with forking glowing eyes!  “You have it, McCall does not.”

Well, that was a bit of an ego boost.  But that had a whole bunch of other connotations and thinking about hot guy who was supposed to be Scott’s soulmate and was his instead was really the least of his worries.

“You’re eyes are glowing,” Stiles said, at last.  “Why?” he added when Derek didn’t respond.

Instead of actually answering, like a normal person, Derek’s eyebrows disappeared as parts of his face shifted and teeth lengthened.  Stiles, still trapped in Derek’s arms, could only press harder against the wall.  “W-werewolf?” he squeaked.

Derek let him go, his face going back to normal as he stepped away.  Stiles slid down the wall.

“I don’t, I shouldn’t be here,” Derek snarled, hand slamming into the wall and taking a chunk from it.

“Dude, don’t break my house!” Stiles snapped automatically.

Derek ignored him, staring at nothing.  Stiles hesitantly pulled himself to his feet.  “Derek, I don’t think I belong in the Good Place either.”  He didn’t know what made him say it, but he felt weirdly like he could trust this guy.

“Then what are we doing here?”

Stiles paused, considering.  Everything so far, from the fake memories, to  him making that cut for the Good Place when he could clearly see from the video that very few people made it here, to this other person  (read forking werewolf) also thinking he does not belong.  None of it fit together.

Unless… “What if this _is_ the Bad Place?  Think about it; clearly, nothing is actually perfect here, and that’s how the Good Place should be.  So then, is the Bad Place or some other place altogether?”

“I don’t know,” Derek said, at last, his frown deepening as the facts he’d learned over the last day were slotted into place.

“Well, one thing’s for damn sure, we aren’t going to tell Michael we know anything.”

“McCall too,” Derek replied with an almost smirk to pull him out of his funk.

“That too.”  Stiles laughed.  Scott was an open book most of the time.  If he knew they were in the Bad Place—if they were in the Bad Place—he wouldn’t be able to keep a lid on it.  “Well, let’s get to work.”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know. Do you guys know? Because I sure don't.


End file.
